


Los Angeles (Interlude)

by SharkAria



Series: 1998 [3]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: 90s AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enthusiastic Consent, Everyone Is An Adult, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Body Image Issues, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, light kink shaming, roller skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23640607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkAria/pseuds/SharkAria
Summary: Glimmer is on a business trip.  Prime calls to confess his favorite fantasy.A non-plotty interlude for the mostly Entrapdak 90s college AU series, 1998.
Relationships: Glimmer/Horde Prime (She-Ra)
Series: 1998 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621843
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	Los Angeles (Interlude)

**Author's Note:**

> Shelter-in-place unearths weird stuff from the mind. Anyway, I hope this provides you some distraction from the current terrors of the world.
> 
> This is pretty plotless, but if you want the AU backstory, please read the two previous series installments.
> 
> An enormous thank you to citrus_quill + twiggierjet for the betaing/readthrough!!!

[](https://ibb.co/GHxmBVn)

**Love Hangover**

So far, Glimmer's West Coast business trip has been a major disappointment. She hasn’t spotted any movie stars. She hasn’t seen a sunset over the Pacific. In fact, she hasn’t seen the sun at all: the spring skies are grey and drizzly. 

At least the room is comfortable. After a shower and a change into pajamas, Glimmer flops onto the king size bed, switches off the overhead lamp, and grabs the remote from the side table. If she can’t enjoy the things that make Southern California famous, she'll catch up on _The Real World_ instead.

 _Or not_ , she thinks, as her cell buzzes beside her. She glances at the LED screen. 

It's Prime.

Glimmer lets it go to voicemail. After all, Prime can’t do anything for her right now, not from three thousand miles away.

Another ring. It's Prime again. 

Glimmer would never accuse him of giving up easily. She presses the answer button. “What do you want?” 

“What do you think?” he says, his voice like velvet.

“I think -- not this week,” she replies as she flips through the channels. _Free HBO, nice._

“I could be at your place in ten minutes.”

“I’m not there. I’m in Los Angeles for the Light Hope account.” _All alone in this big, empty bed,_ Glimmer adds mentally, before she can suppress the thought. But Prime shouldn’t be calling now anyway; he _should_ be too busy. “Aren’t you supposed to be researching the Mystacor investment opportunity?” 

“I don’t report to you,” he sneers. “And the Mystacor ‘opportunity’ can wait.”

“My mom wouldn't like to hear you say that.”

“Angella has repeatedly acknowledged my valuable contributions to the Etherian Enterprises team. Despite the rocky start to my tenure there.” 

"That's an understatement," Glimmer laughs. But she knows better than to tease Prime about how her mother blindsided him by purchasing his firm out from under him and converting him to a mere Etherian employee. The incident is just one of many reasons why Glimmer should stop sleeping with him. Eventually. “Well, anyway, I’m still pretty beat from all the meetings, and there's a _Sex and the City_ marathon on --”

“Don't leave yet, Sparkles,” Prime coaxes. “You know, I shaved four seconds off my personal record today.” 

"Congratulations,” Glimmer mumbles. He’s such a braggart.

“Are my mile times insufficiently titillating for you? Why don’t I tell you my deepest, darkest, secret fantasy instead.”

On television, Carrie and Mr. Big lose their balance and splash into a Central Park pond. 

Glimmer blinks. _Oh, what the hell._ “Alright, I’m listening."

Prime sighs. “It’s probably not what you expect.”

Glimmer expects that Prime’s true deepest, darkest, secret fantasy involves clawing back control of his firm and exacting revenge upon his former board members for their mutiny. But it’s not useful to bring that up. So instead she says, “I already said I’m curious. What’s your fantasy?”

“It's you. A silver bikini top and skin tight, short shorts,” he says. “Knee high socks,” he adds, and she imagines him smiling.

“Pretty standard stuff so far,” Glimmer responds, yawning audibly. Even if she maybe, possibly, kind of likes hearing Prime say that she’s the star of his fantasy. Even if she’s not sure she believes him.

“You and me, just the two of us, in --” Prime pauses. There’s a static crinkle, and Glimmer pictures him brushing his white-blond hair away from his face and switching the phone to his other ear. “I’m not sure if I should tell you the rest.”

“You haven’t told me _anything_ ,” she complains. “If you want me to stay on the phone, you’re going to have to pique my interest with more than hot pants.”

“Skates.”

 _What the --?_ “I don’t get it.” 

“You know,” Prime says, although Glimmer definitely doesn’t. “Flashing colored lights. Diana Ross on the speakers. An empty oval of waxed floor boards, all to ourselves.” He sounds breathless. He’s probably touching himself.

“Hold on. Let me make sure I understand,” Glimmer says. She often forgets that Prime is nearly a decade older than she is, with a half generation’s gap in pop culture to supply his subconscious -- except at times like the present. “Your top secret fantasy is -- roller disco?” 

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a long time. Finally Prime says, “You say that like I should be ashamed.”

“Well. That’s. Yeah.” When Glimmer thinks of skating rinks, she thinks of stale popcorn and bruised knees, training bras and armpit stains, lithe eighth grade girls with perms laughing over their shoulders and pimple-faced teenage boys elbowing kids away from the Street Fighter controls. She thinks of a pizza party at Roller Kingdom where her period came unexpectedly, where she spent the afternoon sweating in the bathroom, holding back tears. “I guess I don’t see the, uh, sex appeal,” Glimmer says.

“You’re not thinking creatively enough,” Prime says, dredging her out of the junior high reverie. “I’m getting hard just thinking about you in a pair of skates.”

Okay, that is kind of hot. Really hot, actually, and really different from those embarrassing memories of puberty. “I’m still not convinced,” Glimmer hedges, although the warmth centered in her pelvis indicates otherwise.

“I can convince you, if you put your hand down your panties.”

“Fine,” she says, and she does. Prime has never disappointed her when it comes to phone sex. “Tell me all about your dorky fantasy that involves roller skates.”

“I’m skating behind you, watching the way your ass moves,” he rasps. “Those tight shorts are riding up, showing me almost everything.” 

“I bet,” Glimmer mutters.

“I can’t tear my eyes away from all the dimples in your thighs.”

Ugh. What kind of dumbass brings up a woman’s cellulite? “Hanging up now,” Glimmer says flatly. 

“Don’t hang up.” It’s tough to tell whether he’s issuing a command or making a plea. “You’re not as smart as you think if you believe I have a single complaint about your thighs.”

“Wow, what a compliment,” Glimmer grumbles. She slides her hand lower. In spite of Prime's complete and total idiocy, he's getting her surprisingly slick. “You never told me what you're wearing,” she says, returning to the image. “One of the disco classics? Bell bottom jeans? Matching wristbands?”

“Whatever you want. Anything. Nothing at all.”

“That white suit,” she says, almost absently, remembering the first time they slept together. Damn him.

“After you’ve been teasing me for a while, taking those turns tighter than you need to, you skate over to the wall and look back at me in an invitation," he continues. "I roll up beside you, and you can see the outline of my hard cock against my slacks.” 

That’s not so hard to imagine. Glimmer has been subject to the bulge in Prime’s pants every few weeks, after work events and between disappointing dates with more appropriate men. She moves her hand faster.

“You know what I want. I can see it in your smile." Prime's voice gets gravelly. “You turn around and I grab the waistband of those tight little shorts and peel them from your hips. Then you grab onto that half wall, eager to see what I'll do next. Hey, tell me how wet you are.” 

“Really wet,” Glimmer acknowledges begrudgingly. “Then what happens?”

“I kneel behind you and swipe my tongue along your wet slit.”

Glimmer rolls her eyes to herself. There’s no way she’d be able to keep her balance on a pair of skates, not with Prime licking her from behind. She’d trip and fall and knock Prime over and they’d both end up in urgent care with sprained ankles or dislocated patellas -- and yet, she is definitely building toward her climax as she rubs herself.

“You’re breathing hard,” Prime comments. “I think you like my story.”

“What would you do next?” Glimmer asks, ignoring Prime’s predictable fishing for praise.

“Once you’re good and slick, I stand up and wipe my face on the back of my hand, and I unzip my fly and pull my throbbing dick out --”

“Uh huh, and are you, you know, leaking?” She suddenly needs to know that information very, very much.

“Just for you,” he answers. “I press the tip against your hot, slick, soaking --”

“Oh for the love of -- just put it inside of me already,” Glimmer demands. She’s already close. Prime doesn’t need to take so damn long with all the details.

“Wow, you’re in a rush,” he chides, and he must be grinning. “Fuck, I wish you were here right now.”

Glimmer’s cheeks bloom with heat. Dammit. Prime might be gorgeous, but he's also annoying, and rude, and amoral, and yet -- and yet -- “I wish I were there too.” She slides her fingers inside herself. “For the sex, of course,” she clarifies.

“Of course,” he says, the words crackling and breathy.

It’s enough. She comes so hard it’s like slamming straight into a roller rink wall. Through her own orgasm she hears Prime groan his release into the receiver.

“I was wrong,” Glimmer pants a while later. It’s the closest thing to an apology she’ll ever give to Prime. “Your fantasy isn’t stupid. It’s sexy.”

“I know.” He chuckles. “So, do you have a pair of shorts like that?”

“Maybe,” Glimmer yawns again. “I’ll dig through my closet when I get home next week.”

“Please do.”

*_*_*_*_*

**This Must Be the Place**

When Glimmer left Boston last week, the early spring winds were miserably freezing, but now that she’s back, they’re merely uncomfortably cold. She shivers in her trench coat as she steps out of her car and onto Prime’s long, curving driveway.

Glimmer adjusts her collar so that it brushes against the fringe of her short hair. It feels a little weird to wear the coat over bare skin, save for the bikini top and the shorts, but weird in an entirely pleasant way. What’s much weirder is the other surprise she brought, which she removes from the trunk and slings over her shoulder. She climbs the stairs up to the stately front door and reaches out to knock.

The door swings open. There’s Prime, with every white-blond hair slicked into place. And best of all, he’s wearing that white suit. The corner of Prime’s mouth twitches upward. 

Glimmer returns the smirk. She doesn’t say a word as she swings the pair of brand new, pink-wheeled roller skates out from behind her back and holds them up by their glittery blue laces for Prime to ogle.

His green eyes widen for a second, before his features settle back into their usual expression of cool confidence. “Looks like I’ve converted you.”

“Maybe,” Glimmer concedes as she glances down at the bulge in his pants. “Shall we take these for a spin? Maybe out on the tennis court?”

He smiles and extends his hand, and she takes it. “Let’s.” He pulls her into the house by her wrist and slams the door shut, then yanks her into an embrace and crushes his mouth against hers.

“‘Bounce, rock, skate, roll’?” Glimmer says around his tongue as he fumbles with her trench coat ties.

“Not necessarily in that order,” Prime replies, kissing her again.

[The end...for now]

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Your comments sustain me.
> 
> I have no interest whatsoever in Glimmer/Prime happening in canon. But I like to indulge in this particular AU every so often :)


End file.
